


think and wonder

by downmoon



Series: the family album [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Deaf Character, M/M, family au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-05 18:30:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11019099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/downmoon/pseuds/downmoon
Summary: Suga’s arm is stretched along the back of the couch. The edge of his thumb presses gently against the back of Daichi’s neck, a tender gesture that blooms in warmth in the center of Daichi’s chest. He’s almost lost in it, this blinding, beautiful, happy bubble he’s found for himself.





	think and wonder

**Author's Note:**

> part of the family album series, which you should definitely check out before reading this!

 They have a schedule for picking the boys up from school.

Suga usually does it, gives them a snack and entertains them until Daichi makes it to Suga’s apartment to start on dinner. If Suga’s working on a deadline, Daichi leaves from work a little early and picks them up. Most of the time he gets both boys, and it’s a matter of wrestling the two of them into their carseats before the trip home.

Sometimes it’s just him and Shouyou, as Yui has Tobio for the weekend. Daichi always finds these scenarios to be endlessly entertaining. Shouyou is a chatterbug, in the truest sense of the word; every thought, feeling, and memory of his day pours out of his mouth as soon as Daichi steps through the door, right up until he falls asleep.

Today it’s just the two of them. He has a firm hold on Shouyou’s hand as they leave the school, Shouyou skipping beside him, his backpack bouncing along against his back. There aren’t many parents around at this time of day, which means it’s a little easier to notice familiar faces, when there are fewer milling about.

“Kuroo?”

This familiar face walks by just as Daichi straightens up, after fastening Shouyou in his booster seat. The sound of his voice carries loud enough that it snags Kuroo’s attention, and he looks about until he catches Daichi’s eye, and then grins.

“Hey, Sawamura!” he says, picking his way off the sidewalk and through the grassy divide that separates the parking lot from the public sidewalk. Daichi notices a little figure beside Kuroo, one with a tight grip on his hand, one that’s caught his curiosity firmly. He can’t quite tear his gaze away from the little boy.

“Long time no see,” Kuroo says as he comes up beside Daichi.

“Yeah,” Daichi says, “it’s been what, a few months?”

“Yeah, at least. Things going well, then? How’s Suga?”

“Fine, fine. He’s at home; I’m on daycare duty today.”

“Oh?”

Kuroo bends down to look inside the car. Daichi hears Shouyou’s voice from inside, and sees Kuroo’s grin brighten as he waves.

“Look, Kenma,” he says, turning to the little boy beside him, “Shouyou’s here.”

Only, Daichi notices the peculiar movement of Kuroo’s hand, the intent with which he moves his fingers. The little boy stares at Kuroo’s hand, his bright eyes wide and unblinking, and then a little smile breaks across his face. He steps forward hesitantly, peering into the open door of the car, stretching, but refusing to let go of Kuroo’s hand.

Kuroo gives his arm a little shake, until he turns away from the car.

“Kenma,” he says, hand moving once again in its pattern, “this is Daichi-san. Say ‘hello’, please.”

Kenma stares up at him with his big, bright eyes, like he’s just noticed someone else standing beside them. Daichi smiles, and waves a little, but Kenma turns back towards the back seat.

“My pride and joy,” Kuroo says with a sigh, “incapable of waving.”

“Your son?” Daichi asks, surprised. He was expecting nephew or cousin or something else, not _son_. “I didn’t think you had a son.”

Kuroo’s propped himself up against the car, but despite the leisurely appearance of his posture, there’s still a tension to him.

“Is it the tongue ring or the tattoos that threw you off?” Kuroo says. Despite the airiness of his tone, and the smirk still perched on his mouth, there’s an abrasive pose to his posture, as if he’s dealt with this line of questioning many times before.

“Your job,” Daichi says after a moment. Kuroo’s vicious smile falters.

“I just assumed someone like you must be pretty busy,” Daichi goes on to say, “ and making time for a family is hard even when you aren’t working months at a time.”

“I, uh. Yeah,” Kuroo says, straightening up. He looks down and scuffs the tip of his sneaker against the pavement. Daichi doesn’t quite get this shift in attitude until he reworks Kuroo’s words in his head, and wonders just how many times Kuroo’s dealt with this.

“Can I ask you something?” Daichi says.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Is that-” Daichi says, gesturing vaguely to the back seat of the car, “is it sign language you’re using?”

Kuroo laughs shortly, and jams his hands into his pockets.

“It is,” he says, “been doing it since Kenma was a baby.”

“Really? He learned it that young?”

Kuroo shrugs.

“Kids pick things up quickly, especially when it’s their only way of communicating with anyone.”

Daichi’s mouth clicks shut, chastised.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be insensitive.”

“Ah, it’s fine,” Kuroo waves him off, “you didn’t know. And I’m not so easily offended, Sawamura.”

There is absolutely no denying the awkwardness clouding Daichi’s head; he’s no stranger to it, having put his foot in his mouth too many times to count. But Kuroo’s grin is reassuring, open, and it’s easy enough for him to crack a bad joke and completely change the subject.

 

They linger, chatting idly outside of Daichi’s car, until the definite chill of spring sends a shiver down Daichi’s spine. Kuroo notices, and laughs. He taps Kenma’s shoulder, then gestures with his fingers until Kenma crawls into his open arms.

“I can’t believe Shouyou sat back there so quietly all this time,” Daichi says.

“Me neither. Even when he’s with Kenma, he’s always talking a mile a minute.”

Daichi huffs out a laugh, ducking into the backseat to check Shouyou’s seat belt and ruffle his hair. Shouyou’s mouth is pressed firmly together, and he’s making some motion with his hands that Daichi can’t decipher.

“Can you say ‘goodbye?’” Kuroo asks, bouncing Kenma lightly in his arms. He waves towards Daichi, then waves again, until Kenma half-heartedly follows his lead.

“Goodbye, Kenma,” Daichi says, waving as well.

Kenma stares at him, then tucks his face against Kuroo’s neck.

“What are we doing, faking shyness now?” Kuroo asks fondly, patting Kenma’s back. “I guess this is my cue to leave. Good to see you, Sawamura.”

He ducks his head to look into the back seat.

“Bye, Shouyou!”

Kuroo laughs as Shouyou flaps his hands in odd, aborted gestures.

“We’ll meet up sometime, yeah?”

“Yeah, that’d be great. Take care, Kuroo.”

Kuroo waves, and they’re off. Daichi closes Shouyou’s door and climbs into his car. He can see Kuroo on the sidewalk, watching Kenma as his little hands move.

“You like Kenma, huh, Shouyou?” he asks. In his rearview mirror, he sees Shouyou still playing this game of motions with his hands. It’s the quietest car ride home they’ve had yet.

 

“Sign language? Oh, did you run into Kenma today?”

There’s always a soft light to Suga, a serenity tied in with his natural sweetness. He smiles when Daichi kisses him, and laughs when Shouyou pushes past Daichi’s legs, hands in their furious movements, but once he figures out _why_ Daichi’s asking about sign language, his face lights up.

“I didn’t know Kuroo had a son,” Daichi says.

“Oh, Kenma is such a sweet boy. Shou’s been working hard on learning his signs so they can talk.”

He shouldn’t be surprised, but when Suga looks down at Shouyou and makes some reply with his hands, he is.

_“You_ know sign language, too?” he asks, incredulous.

Suga laughs and runs a hand down his arm.

“My closest friend in high school used sign language. I picked it up pretty quickly. He talked a _lot_.”

Shouyou pulls on Suga’s shirt until he looks down again, hands flashing, but he stops and stares when Suga replies.

“Suga-chan,” he huffs, crossing his little arms, “you’re too fast.”

Suga laughs and strokes over his hair.

“You’ll get it soon, Shou. We better go clean up so we can help Dai-san with dinner, okay?”

Shouyou scampers off around the corner, his backpack swinging wildly on his shoulders. Suga smiles to himself, and trails after the little whirlwind.

 

On Monday, Daichi spends his break researching sign language.

It’s something that pops up on his phone almost before he quite realizes it, the basics, the history, a visual chart of hand motions. He sips his coffee delicately as he scrolls through his phone, trying to comprehend the information he’s being presented with. Later, he tries out a few of the simple signs under his desk, walking down the stairs, in the gym.

He plans to ask Suga about it when he gets home. It’s on the tip of his tongue when he uses Suga’s spare key to let himself in, but it turns out he doesn’t even need to say anything.

The boys are perched on kitchen chairs, both staring at Suga as he carefully demonstrates some motion. Tobio glances quickly at him in the entryway, and Daichi sees the little squirm in his seat, the debate over jumping out of his chair or staying still running through his mind. But, as has been the course of things over the past few months, it’s Suga that draws Tobio’s attention.

“Hi,” Suga says airily over his shoulder.

“Hi.”

“We’re learning how to say ‘I’m hungry.’”

Daichi snorts, and at the soft laugh that bubbles out of Suga’s mouth, Shouyou titters as well, crushing his hands to his face.

“Alright, I got the hint,” Daichi says, pushing off the doorframe and stepping into the kitchen. There’s not much to do. He pulls leftovers out of Suga’s fridge and throws them in a skillet. As the food begins to sizzle, Tobio wanders in and curls his fingers against Daichi’s jeans.

“Hey, kiddo. You hungry?”

Tobio slowly nods his head. His eyes and cheeks are a touch pink, and the clinginess points to a meltdown earlier. Daichi runs a hand over his hair.

“Dai-san, look at me!” Shouyou says. He runs, always _running_ , into the kitchen, pulling on Tobio’s shirt in some warped attempt at catching Daichi’s attention.

“Hey, hey,” he says, “no pulling, please.”

Tobio starts to whine against Daichi’s leg, until Daichi ducks down and unlatches Shouyou’s fingers from the back of his shirt. Shouyou is undeterred, spinning himself in circles through the kitchen, just out of Daichi’s reach.

“Shou- come on- ” Daichi says, but with Tobio clinging to his leg, and food on the stove, he can’t catch a grip on his little spinning form. Luckily, Suga and whatever sixth sense he has when it comes to hyperactive little boys, sweeps into the kitchen and catches a whirling Shouyou by the shoulders and kneels down in front of him.

He can’t hear what Suga’s saying, not with a skillet snapping in front of him, but Shouyou at least stops spinning. Suga opens a cupboard and pulls out plates and cups, and chopsticks and spoons, which get passed off to Shouyou. He marches out of the kitchen with his bundle, Suga following behind with a frown creasing over his forehead. Daichi watches him leave, giving the skillet a jolt over the burner.

Tobio’s still clutching onto his leg, but Daichi carefully unwinds his hands, and lifts him to sit on the counter.

“Must’ve been quite an afternoon,” Daichi says to himself. Tobio doesn’t look at him, staring at the stovetop, but he nods his head, fingers jammed in his mouth.

 

“How did you ever meet Kuroo?”

It’s not exactly the question he’s been meaning to ask, and especially not now; Suga’s slumped up against the arm of the couch, eyes closed, head propped up on his fist, and Daichi’s not so far behind him. Suga’s had a deadline looming recently, and despite how much hard work he’s poured into rewrites of his latest manuscript, he’s hit a creative stride, and can’t seem to leave his revisions alone.

Suga’s eyes open, just a crack, and he peers at Daichi in the dim light of the living room.

“It’s not-” Daichi says, his head spinning as he tries to backtrack, “like. He’s _famous_ , so I was just wondering.”

The barest press of a smile ghosts over Suga’s mouth, and he straightens up a bit, shifting his legs across Daichi’s lap until his toes dig into Daichi’s thighs.

“Daycare,” Suga says shortly. His smile brightens at the disbelief that crosses Daichi’s face.

“Did you not realize their daycare is _kind of_ prestigious, Daichi?”  
  
“W-well, Yui’s the one who picked it out-”

Suga laughs at him- _laughs at him-_ then sits up. His hair is mussed, his mouth soft, and Daichi’s heart lurches at the sight of him, Suga, _his_ Suga, who won’t go to bed because it’s the first time they’ve gotten to see each other for longer than ten minutes in two weeks.

“I met him,” Suga says, “oh, I don’t know, a month or so after Shou had started there. I happened to notice the sign language he was using with Kenma, and I hadn’t seen it in so long, I just...started talking to him. And you know how Kuroo is; he can talk about anything with anyone, for any length of time.”

Daichi’s hand rests over Suga’s ankle, and he gives it a tender squeeze.

“And from there, we just, I dunno,” Suga says, shrugging, “we clicked. Balanced each other out. He’s not- well, not that it’s really my place to say it, but he’s not a single parent, but what I know about Kenma is. It’s complicated, to put it nicely, I think.”

Suga’s hand worries over a loose thread on the couch.

“I didn’t know Kuroo had a son,” Daichi says softly. He’s staring up at the ceiling, but he can sense the thoughtful way Suga’s looking at him. It’s point Daichi’s already brought up, but it-

It picks at him, indulges his curiosity. Kuroo’s a pretty decent guy, from the handful of times Daichi’s interacted at him, but there’s so much he’s curious about, so many questions he wants to ask.

“Kenma’s a sweet kid,” Suga says after a beat. “Shouyou likes him an awful lot.”

“Yeah, he’s- yeah. Calm.”

Suga laughs.

“That he is. I don’t know how he can handle Shouyou as well as he does.”

Daichi hums, nodding his head in absent thought.

“Daichi,” Suga says. He tilts his head a little closer, resting it against the back of the couch. “What’s on your mind?”

Daichi’s stomach drops, a nervous flutter tearing through him as he turns his head to look at Suga, that perceptive gaze of his gently digging into his thoughts.

“I want you to teach me how to sign,” he blurts out. Suga regards him with a quirk to one eyebrow, an amused grin playing over his mouth.

“Of course,” he says in return, “Tobio seems to be interested in it, too. You can sit in on our lessons. Was that it, though? You look like, I dunno, you had something more pressing on your mind.”

Suga’s arm is stretched along the back of the couch. The edge of his thumb presses gently against the back of Daichi’s neck, a tender gesture that blooms in warmth in the center of Daichi’s chest. He’s almost lost in it, this blinding, beautiful, happy bubble he’s found for himself.

He grabs Suga’s hand, clutching it like a lifeline. Suga’s face slips from amusement to a touch of confusion, but he’s still smiling, always smiling.

“Suga,” Daichi says in a whisper. He feels like all the air’s been squeezed out of him, a rush of breath lost to the overwhelming sensation of love he’s drowning in. “Suga, move in with me.”

The reaction is instantaneous; Suga blinks once, then sits up straight, his eyes wide, any trace of lingering sleepiness evaporating in a second.

“Daichi! I- you’re serious?”

He sits there, staring at Suga, thinking of all the things he could say, how he’s been considering this for months, how his life has snapped into blissful balance with Suga in it, how going home each night to his apartment doesn’t feel right anymore. But none of the words are right; it all seems like endless justification for a question he’s been agonizing over asking.

“Yeah,” he settles on, “I’m serious.”

Suga is still staring at him, wide-eyed, but Daichi doesn’t feel nervous anymore. He feels relieved more than anything, that it’s finally come out.

“But think about it,” Daichi says. “Be sensible. I don’t want you to do it just because I asked.”

One of his hands falls to Suga’s thigh.

“But, I love you, and and I’ve thought a lot about this, and-”

He doesn’t finish his sentence; Suga dives forward and wraps his arms around Daichi’s shoulders, one hand coming to rest against the crown of Daichi’s head. The breath is knocked right out of him, but Daichi’s arms come around Suga’s waist, pulling him tight against his chest.

“I love you,” Suga whispers. Daichi squeezes him tighter.

 

Shouyou darts for the door almost before Daichi or Suga even hear the knock. Suga catches him halfway with an arm looped around his waist, and manages to keep a firm grip on him as they walk to the door together. Daichi stands up, Tobio looking up at him with wide, concerned eyes, the same face he makes whenever he’s forced to interact with someone new.

“Do you remember what you want to say?” Daichi asks him. Tobio nods, then holds up his hands, his index finger on each hand crooked. He’d been practicing for a solid week, just the one word, over and over. Daichi had found him in his room a few days prior, his stuffed animals lined up in front of him, as he practiced the sign for his little audience.

Daichi smiles at Tobio’s determination, and gently takes him by the hand. Suga has already welcomed Kuroo and Kenma into the apartment, and Shouyou’s taken to dancing near circles around Kenma, who looks surprisingly unbothered by all the action surrounding him. When Daichi approaches, he looks up with those wide, bright eyes, then chances a hesitant glance towards Tobio, who’s about half-hidden behind Daichi’s legs.

Kuroo notices, and kneels down beside Kenma.

“Kenma,” he says out loud, his hands moving in careful signs as he speaks, “this is Shouyou’s friend, Tobio. You met him a few days ago, you remember?”

Kenma nods his head.

“Will you say ‘hello,’ please?”

Kenma looks towards his father, who urges him on again with a nudge. Kenma lifts a hand and waves half-heartedly, then tucks his hands together in front of himself. Daichi glances behind himself, and with a gentle hand on Tobio’s head, guides him out from behind the shield of his legs. Tobio needs no prompting; he whips his hands in front of him, two fingers bent towards each other in a little pseudo-bow. Daichi crouches down, and does the same, in the best imitation of what Suga taught him.

Kenma stares at both of them with his luminous eyes, like he can’t believe what he just saw. Kuroo might look shocked, too, if not for the perpetual smirk on his face.

“Would you look at that,” he says softly.

Shouyou takes the dip into silence as his cue to snag attention, and scurries in another circle around Kenma, bouncing in front of him and pulling insistently on the edge of his shirt. Kenma looks to Kuroo, who nods and waves his hand.

“Go on,” he says, “you’re free.”

Kenma scampers off behind Shouyou, dragging a small backpack behind him. Tobio watches the two of them, but before Daichi can send him off with a nudge of encouragement, he takes off on his own, little feet pounding across the floor.

When Daichi stands up, staunchly ignoring the creaking of his knees, Suga’s looking at him with _that_ smile, that soft, dizzy thing that makes Daichi’s stomach do all kinds of flips and twists, the smile that makes him think how lucky they _both_ are.

“Wow,” Kuroo says, “been a long time since I felt like I was third-wheeling at a play date.”

Daichi groans, a bloom of heat spreading over his face in embarrassment. Kuroo laughs lightly, and slaps a hand down on his shoulder.

“I’m kidding, Sawamura. You two are made for each other. And I hear there’s a big move in your future?” The sincerity of the words is marred by the look on Kuroo’s face, but Daichi appreciates the sentiment, and laughs all the same, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Not for a while,” he says, glancing at Suga, “but yeah. Probably the end of the year we’ll be looking for a house.”

This time, there is a change to Kuroo’s expression- subtle, but definitely there, something more open and honest.

“That’s great. That’s really great, you guys. I’m happy for you.”

He switches the subject soon after that, before they can dip into lingering, awkward silences, chastising Suga for not offering him tea the second he walked through the door, to which Suga huffs, muttering “it was _one_ time,” under his breath. Daichi follows behind them as Suga heads for the kitchen, and makes a show of putting on tea. He pulls three mugs from the cupboard, and slides one across the counter towards Daichi. Their backs turned to Kuroo for an instant, Suga offers Daichi a smile, a lovely thing that warms the color of his eyes, and sets Daichi’s heart to thundering in his chest.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://downmoonwrites.tumblr.com/)   
>  [twitter](https://twitter.com/dyefighter)


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